Ping-pong balling thoughts into the night

Sometimes, quite often late into the night

I come to find myself deep into the unknown on some kind of expedition

Carefully charting a detailed map of a landscape that does not exist

Following the amalgamation from figments of imagination that I half assist

Building mansions of metaphorical thought that I manifest and express onto this paper

Why? Cause their creations bring me a smile.

What’s the difference between these  mansions

And the house of cards our western minds are built on?

They’re both built over a fault line, trying to form some kind of peace and unity over a infinitely deep chaos filled canyon

that seems to underlie everything in this world, those who dig deep into this mystery all find the same thing

Chaos. Opposites, this schism, this uncertainty and obscurity that has swept so many of us out to sea

All rivers lead to the ocean, all paths lead to rome, and what the fuck does Rome have to do with anything? I don’t know

But for the sake of what I’m saying, Rome’s through the bottom of the sea

Atlantis it may as well be, the city in midst of chaos, the secret order

In the labyrinths of potential paths to get to the ultimate meaning

So many of my fellow philosophers have lost their heads

And now me…

This subjectivity sometimes makes it so hard to breath. Who the fuck is me?

Human number 5 trillion 1 hundred and fifty three? I don’t know shit about anthropology

But I know there’s a longer tail than that attached onto the evolutionary human centipede

Shoot, the term ‘human centipede’ has a bad rep these days, whatever let’s just say ‘life tree’

That we keep branching off, into more and more complexities

Further and further from the straight line trunk

Farther and farther from the energy stored in the roots

It seems the more I add onto this fantasy, the more waves come to flood my island of subjectivity

When the storms come, and the ‘I’ disappears, and I slip away into separation and fear

There goes my foundation again, everything I thought I was, thought I knew, thought I’d accomplished

It all amounts to nothing as I’m left again as nothing in the middle of nowhere holding onto this point of awareness, alone

Is this objectivity? Can it ever be just me with this tail, or always we? Or due to my point in space, here we are again with the law of general relativity..

God dammit, alone again, as it all caves in on me

Well, like I’ve said many times before when I’ve fallen through the bottom floor:

Staring into the night sky

I am here and I am alone

But here alone with everything.

But here again I stand, and am still standing, and when I re unite with my will

I will go on building, these mansions of thought that infiltrate space

And make the most of this darkness and my time lost in this unknown place

And try to form a more solid base that will hopefully last longer than the one in the past

Cause I’m back here again, alone and shaking, wishing to some god I had a friend

No one wants to be here, not even me, I wish I could find some other mystery

The potential of being down here on the pendulum is what drives seemingly everything we do

Besides of course satisfying our need for food

But mentally, uncertainty is the devil man, it’ll sweep you in, so we build build build to stay above obscurity my friend

we need to be sure of things, put things in pigeon holes and label em up so we get that feeling of security when we ‘know’

Otherwise, like me, you’ll be swept in by the undertow

And being shipwrecked takes you to a place you don’t want to be

Trust me my brothers and sisters, hold on strong to what you believe

It doesn’t matter if it’s Science, Islam or Christianity

As long as you’re not pushing it on anybody

Whatever it is is fine with me, whatever helps you from drowning in this sea

I don’t care anymore whether people’s bases are ‘wrong’ or ‘untrue’

If it helps you function and  be a better you, than that’s it’s the best thing you can do

Not many are cut out to travel down the inward path

And to the courageous few that do and make it back with their ship intact,

We owe them so much for sacrificing their well being

For the expansion of consciousness and human understanding

These philosophers, far and few between, I urge you to listen to their travels

And add onto your mansion of knowing with the puzzles they’ve picked from the sea

Because it’s not a safe place for you or me

But I have no choice to follow this path of mystery

Even though I know one day it will ruin me

It seems this is what I was supposed to be

A shaman, a medicine man, to understand and build the evolutionary human being

In its expansion and adaption to chaotic sea that underlies all we are and see

But now, I have gone too far

Underestimated the waves on that last expedition

Is that what happened you overconfident ‘intrepid’ metaphysician

Almost got lost for good searching for that secret meaning this time huh?


You must endure

For the last two years, lost at deep at sea, riding through the storms

Yet holding my serenity, through drastic ups and downs and intervals of lost identity

But this last storm, it took it all away, left me hopeless, wrecked, and debilitated

And somehow, Soooomehow, made it back to I, and climbed back to the bridge connecting both sides

Staring down into the bottomless abyss, hoping never to get swept back into it

The last time. I’ll still get my water from the ocean, still swim in it from time to time, still ride the waves close to shore

But now that I have pulled myself remotely out of colossal times and sank my feet into the sand back on shore

I’ve found that my well being and sanity is much-a-lot-more worth fighting for

Life’s short, yes, but chaos makes it unbearably long

I’ve found smooth waters and anchored my ship just offshore, I’ve built the strongest dams

I’ve got a watch tower to look out for any tsunamis on the horizon

I’ve got my mansion built just up the hill, with my scripture on the table, an arms reach from my bed

I’ve got all that I’ve learned, all my quotes, all my poems, all my favorite songs

I’ve got my friends, my pack of cigarettes for those nights with my ‘exploding head syndrome’

which as it is so appropriately named, has made a fear of the dark imbedded in my memories since I was a kid

And at the slightest trembling or perceived threat, the alarm gets sounded in the tower

And just before I get surrounded by the places I’ve been running from my whole life,

I’ve got my scientific web pages saved with facts facts facts, that reassure me that it’s just this and that

They tell me all there is to know about the structure of the cup that holds the flow

And soon my head will be filled with so many facts that I’ll forget all about the water

That awaits just inside of every representation


They’ll prove it to you

Thank god for some reassurance

Thank god for some facts that teach me about our connection

Without me having to step outside the comforts and security of my mansion

I’ve got em all right by my bed, and yet there’s still this uncertainty in my head

Post dramatic stress, anxiety from the past

Acceptance of all the absurd things that have happened to me

It’s harder than it sounds, cause they’re still alive in there, in my memories, in me

And beneath that, there’s still this centipede,

This unconscious undertow that my will and my thoughts that act as dams, hold no water against

But now I will to build fast, so I can endure in this life, with my sanity, at last

Build and make it last, build fast, build to make it last

I hope in the near future, on similar occasions late into a sleepless night, when I pick up a pen

And let my mind go and just write whatever it is that needs to be outflowed

I hope the topics change, I hope this will be the last

Expression written in fear of my chaotic past

But really, who am I kidding?

I’ll look at myself in the mirror and say

“Matt, you’re standing in front of a tsunami here”

And yet, the towering drama of that terminology is in many ways meaningless

There’s been a tsunami on the horizon since I was 6 years old

What the fuck am I supposed to do?

That’s how I’ve tried to make myself a superman

By dealing with the avalanches that bring down the mountain

By riding with the tsunamis that flood the island

Emotionally and psychologically

“The time has come to prove by deeds

that man will not quake before the pit where fantasy

condemns itself to tortures of its own creation

when he advances to the narrow passageway

about whose mouth infernal flames are blazing.

Approach the brink serenely and accept the risk

of melting into nothingness.” -Faust


~ by undertownaufrago on November 25, 2011.

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